


Walled

by Redcrow



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angry Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, M/M, Rough Sex, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redcrow/pseuds/Redcrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John gets jealous and angry leading to some agressive frottage against the kitchen wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Megg33k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megg33k/gifts).



*AHHHHH*

John looked up from his newspaper, still chewing on a bite of toast. "What's that?" He asked. It might have been his imagination but Sherlock suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"What's what?"

*AHHHHH*

"That. What's that?"

"It's a text alert. Means I've got a text." Sherlock popped the last 't' and lifted his newspaper, covering his face from John's view.

John frowned, now he was suspicious and he had to admit intrigued. That wasn't a usual text tone, especially for someone like Sherlock. It was more than a little suggestive. John finished his toast and tea and got ready for work, deciding that a quick chat with Mrs Hudson before he left might be a good idea.

 

When John left the table Sherlock retrieved his phone from his dressing gown pocket and swiped the screen. The text was brief, -I'm not hungry, let's have dinner.- he stared at the small screen, confused as to how he felt about this. He shook his head and slipped the phone back into his pocket just as it rang with a more familiar tone. He swiped the phone again and brought it up to his ear.

"What is it Mycroft?"

"Are you sure you are paying attention to the right person Sherlock?"

"Mind your own business." Sherlock snapped.

"Believe it or not little brother, your happiness is my business and you've danced around this long enough."

"Yes, thank you for your opinion, now stop bothering me." Sherlock hung up, threw his newspaper down and strode to his room.

 

John trotted down the stairs, a little relieved to find the living room empty. He continued on and reaching Mrs Hudson's door, knocked softly. 

"Oh hello dear, everything alright?" She smiled kindly as she opened the door.

"Um... I was wondering of you had time for a quick chat?" 

"Of course dear, come on in." 

John sat down on the floral couch and picked at a loose thread on his jeans. God he felt like a stupid teenager asking this but he had to do something to sort out how he felt.

"Er Mrs H, do you know if Sherlock has ever had a girlfriend or....or a boyfriend...anything? Has he ever had a relationship like that?" John asked awkwardly.

Mrs Hudson sat down next to him and frowned slightly.

"I don't know." She answered simply. "But..." She paused.

"What is it Mrs H?"

"I think he may be interested in someone." She tipped her head and smiled at John.

"What makes you think that?" John looked at his hands.

"Oh I don't know, but he's different, something has changed recently." She smiled and clasped his hand. "I've seen the way he looks at you."

John’s head snapped up, he stared at her wide eyed.

"Oh it's ok dear," She said patting his hands. "I know you haven't made up your mind about that yet."

"Er..thanks Mrs H, I'd better get to work."

 

It had been a long day for both of them, ten minutes before the end of John's shift Sherlock had turned up at the surgery and dragged him off to help with the case. Sarah hadn't been overly impressed but had shrugged and let him leave early. After a couple hours with Sherlock, chasing around London's streets, John was pretty exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and have a cup of tea. So it was with some relief that he hauled himself up the stairs after Sherlock, ready to fall onto the couch and watch some crap telly for a while.

Sherlock's nostrils flared, sniffing. "Do you smell that?" He asked walking through the living room to his bedroom door.

"What?" If he was honest, John was too tired to care.

Sherlock opened the door as John stepped up behind him.

"Oh!" John exclaimed "What's she doing here and in your bed of all places?"

"Good question." Sherlock turned and walked away, sitting at his desk, he opened his laptop and carried on as of nothing was amiss.

John stood in the doorway watching as Irene slowly awoke. "I'll just go and put the kettle on." He said, pulling the door closed as she sat up.

A few minutes later, just as John was returning from the kitchen with a tray of 3 cups of tea, Sherlock's door opened again and the lithe, graceful figure of 'The Woman' made her way languidly to Sherlock's side.

"Hello sexy" She purred, running her polished nails over his shoulder.

"The last time you touched me there, you drugged me. I'd rather you didn't do that again. It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience." Sherlock voice was hard. 

A painful sensation passed through John guts, he put the tray down a little heavy handed, slopping some the drinks.

"Why exactly are you here?" John asked, not quite concealing the venom in his voice.

"Oh I just wanted to pay a visit to my favourite detective." She smiled.

"Do you always drug people you like?" Sherlock stood and moved towards her. John had to force himself not to get between them, he sat down in his armchair with a huff.

"Only the really interesting ones." She replied, stepping closer, so close theirs bodies were touching lightly. She gazed up at Sherlock, lips parted.

'Christ! Why doesn't he move away?' John thought to himself. 'Why doesn't he tell her to get lost?' He watched Sherlock carefully, he saw his pupils dilate, he saw the slight rise in colour in his face and he knew that pain in his own stomach was jealousy. 

"I'm very busy Miss Adler, shall I call you a cab?" Sherlock turned and picked up his phone.

"No, I can get my own cab, thank you anyway." Her voice was clipped, disappointed and John couldn't help a smile as he sipped his tea.

 

Some 15 minutes later Sherlock was still sat at his desk and hadn't said a word about the visitor they had just shut the door behind. Irrationally John was angry, he had no real idea why he was angry except that Sherlock had been very obviously aroused by their guest and this truth was grating on his nerves.  
John had finally admitted to himself that he was attracted to Sherlock, quite possibly more than he had been attracted to anyone else in his life and yet he was having a very hard time dealing with this little fact.  
The longer he sat there and thought about it, the longer the infuriating git sat there tapping away on his laptop, the more worked up John became.  
'How can the bastard not see it, why doesn't he say something, he's not completely blind to this kind of thing. He's doing it on purpose just to fucking wind me up.' John seethed silently.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE" John finally erupted, pushing out of his chair.

Sherlock stopped typing and turned to face him. "Something wrong?" He asked reasonably.

"Why didn't you chuck her out Sherlock, fucking hell, she was in your bed." John spat.

"Shouldn't I be the one upset about that?"

"Yeah you should, but you're not. Why not?"

"Miss Adler is a law unto herself and I'd rather not get involved in her little games." Sherlock spoke evenly turning back to his laptop screen.

"Well she fucking pisses me off, with those polished talons all over you." John blushed the moment he realised what he'd said and turned away.

"Why would it bother you? I don't understand." This time Sherlock turned in his seat the laptop forgotten.

"Nevermind." John walked to kitchen and flipped on the kettle.

"John?" Sherlock stood and followed.

"I just think you deserve better, that's all." John kept his back turned, hiding the heat in his face.

"I didn't know you were so concerned with my private life." 

John could hear the amusement in Sherlock's voice and that didn't help his mood one bit.  
"Fuck off." John said quietly.

"What?"

"I SAID FUCK OFF!" John spun around and slammed Sherlock into the wall behind him. The look of surprise on his face should have been funny or at least satisfying but John's anger was irrational and didn't fade. He crowded up against Sherlock, his hands either side of his head.  
"For a genius you can be really fucking stupid sometimes." John growled.

The moment his back hit the wall Sherlock's breath was knocked out of him and he stood staring as John crowded against him. He felt his cheeks flush and the heat rise in his groin. John's hands slammed on the wall either side of his head, caging him in. He knew John was speaking but his brain was not registering the words. Before he had time to really think about what he was doing, he leaned down and kissed John squarely on the mouth.

Sherlock felt John freeze and instantly worried that he'd read everything wrong. He pulled back and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. He so wanted to reach out, to push his hands up under that jumper and touch warm skin but they remained flat against the wall, at his sides, unmoving.  
Sherlock closed his eyes. "I'm sorr.."

"Shut the fuck up." John pushed up against him again and kissed him fiercely.  
It was more like a mashing of lips and teeth than a kiss and it felt fucking amazing. Sherlock's moan rumbled on John's lips as he pushed in harder, grinding his hips into the detective.  
Sherlock's arms snaked around John's waist and his hands pushed up under his clothes, searching for flesh. He moaned again as the heat from John's back warmed the skin of his hands.

Finding the angle a little strange and awkward John's mouth moved down and around Sherlock's smooth jawline to the side of his neck. He sucked on the skin there, using his teeth to mark the pale skin and reaching down, with his left hand, he found a very satisfying bulge between Sherlock's legs. He squeezed and smiled against Sherlock’s neck when this caused the tall man to jump slightly.  
Those large, cool, hands were withdrawn from his under his shirt and jumper and were now fumbling at the front of his jeans. Popping the button, Sherlock dragged the zipper down and roughly shoved at the denim.  
John's sigh blew hot breath over Sherlock's ear as he pushed John's jeans down over his hips. Sherlock dropped back against the cold plaster, his head tipping up and his eyes falling closed as he palmed the hot hard flesh beneath soft red fabric.

That hand there, that hand touching John, sent him into overdrive and he bit down hard on Sherlock's neck, just where neck meets shoulder. The grunt of pain did nothing to rein him in and the hand now shoving into his underwear and gripping his erection spurred John into more action. He dropped his right hand to where his left was already trying to figure out the damn hook, button and zipper arrangement to Sherlock's expensive suit trousers and tore them open. To his surprised delight he found that Sherlock wasn't wearing any underwear and the moistness of pre-ejaculate smeared over his fingers as he gripped Sherlock's cock.

Sherlock's hips tilted forward, thrusting into John's own hot hardness. He pushed at John's ridiculous red pants, getting them down far enough to wrap one large hand around both of them. John gasped and brought his right hand back up to pull Sherlock down to his mouth again. John thrust his tongue between Sherlock's parted lips fucking his mouth as he threaded the fingers of his left hand through Sherlock's right and pumped them together.  
His breath becoming harsher, Sherlock's head dropped back against the wall again and John looked down to where their cocks were sliding wetly over each other, his forehead resting on Sherlock's collarbone.

"Come on." John whispered. "I want to see you come undone." He said as his own tension rose.  
Sherlock's breath shuddered and held, his hips pushed forward just as the pressure at the base of his spine reached it's highest point. John felt the flesh harden even more under his fingers and gasped as his own climax rushed upon him. There were grunts and moans from both men before they collapsed into a sticky heap of tangled limbs on the kitchen floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Two prompts from anons on tumblr led to this bout of angry frottage.
> 
> For Megg33k, not a patch on your work but I'm trying. x
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, I just borrow them from time to time.


End file.
